Pussy Galore
by Ace Oiler
Summary: Pussy Galore!


**Pussy Galore!**

**Scene 1: Bloody Marry**

In the living room the golden girls are sitting down each drinking a bloody marry.

Blanche: Mmmmmmmmmmmm! This bloody marry is good. It reminds me of when I was in High School and I ate out Mindy Sue, the girl who lived next door.

Dorothy: Blanche!

Blanche: What?

Dorothy: That's awful!

Rose: Let's change the subject.

Dorothy: That's the smartest thing I have heard Rose say.

Blanche: Fine... oh yeah. I met Mr. Right.

Sophia: Right must be a very popular last name because this must be your 15th Mr. Right.

Blanche: Well this is the one, and remember about my eggs? I have a plan to snag Mr. Right. I'm going to steal his sperm and get pregnant so he has to marry me.

Dorothy: Now what's this plan?

Rose: Oh boy! We're gonna hear a story!

Blanche: Well, that's just it-uh-I haven't exactly come up with a plan yet. That's why I came to you girls. I'm gonna need your help. Think about it. Think about all the years we have in this room between all of us. We probably have a couple of centuries, even an eon. Hell, Sophia went to High School with Jesus.

Sophia: He used to turn water into wine for us. We'd get drunk after school. We used to party really hard. Woohoo!

Rose: How about the plan I cooked up in St. Olaf when I was a girl, when we we're playing snowballs with the boys? Cody Cockle and all the other boys got together and they didn't know what to do, just like today, that's why I have deja vue. Anyways, the girls didn't know what to do either. I came up with a plan. I had a dream the night before. I was waging a war against the Pope. I put a decoy of a cardboard me in front of the Pope, and he really thought it was me. But it really wasn't me. I was too sneaky for that. So, I told everyone about my dream and we made cardboard portraits of ourselves and the boys were fooled!

Dorothy: Where is this going?

Rose: Uh...well, to get to the point, you should always put on a show to deceive, and then grab what's yours.

Blanche: Done that already. I usually just get 'em three sheets to the wind and have myself a grope at their package to get 'em excited.

Dorothy: I know! You can pretend like you're a hooker, which won't be that hard to do, and act like you are in desperate need of help and money. You can tell "Mr. Right" that you won't get off the street if he doesn't marry you. If he doesn't care, then give him a good offer, even lower than your usual flat rate of $20 all the way, spoon some of his jiz in a jar, then you're all set. Lickity split, he'll be forced to marry you!

Blanche: You really think he would? Is it really full proof?

Sophia: About as full proof as a contraceptive from Vietnam! You just gotta drug him, get on top and get the sample for yourself. Luring is too hard, especially in your case. Looks like your spare tire has doubled, Blanche!

Blanche: Go to hell Sophia! You're about as dry as a member of the Donner party when spring came.

Sophia: (mumbles) Stupid slut...

Blanche: What?

Sophia: Oh, nothing. I was just commenting on how beautiful you are, as always. Way to go, Blanche! We're all so impressed.

Blanche: (giggles) I know...well, I better go get my makeup on and change. Mr. Right will be at the country club playing racquet ball and I'll sneak up on him and stumble on my ass. He'll have to help me up and then the plan goes from there.

**Scene 2: Saggy and Grey**

Blanche scuttles to a poolside seat at the country club. She takes off her robe and reveals an extremely undersized bikini struggling with all of its might to stay on Blanche's blubbery body. She slinks into the pool and sidles over to the poolside bar. She suddenly sees Mr. Right dive into the pool and approach the bar.

Mr. Right: Daquiri.

Blanche: Oh. My, my, my. What a beautiful day it is. I don't even remember the last time I got to sunbathe my gorgeous European body.

Mr. Right: Hahaha. You got a sense of humor lady.

Blanche: What?

Mr. Right: I mean, it's funny. Very original.

Blanche: I do declare. I was just remarking about my beautiful figure because everyone says it is just the most magnificent thing in the world.

Mr. Right: You're serious? You really are crazy, lady.

Blanche: Just buy me a damn drink, stupid. Obviously you can't take the 'lilest of hints.

Mr. Right: If you put it that way, you need one.

Blanche: I want a Bloody Mary, bartender.

Mr. Right: Hmmm.

Blanche: I normally don't tell men this so straightforwardly, but I have a fetish. Wanna know what it is? Huh—huh?

Mr. Right: Not really.

Blanche: I don't believe you. I'll go ahead and show you. You just stay right there.

Blanche slowly pinches the tip of her celery stick with her long, red nails, and pushes the celery into her mouth, gingerly sucking on the shaft back and forth. She then bites the end aggressively while slowly pouring the Bloody Mary all over her bosoms.

Blanche: Awwwhahaha. How invigoratin'. I am so refreshed, baby. Rahr!

Mr. Right stands with his mouth open in shock. He slowly hunches over in the pool and pukes a black gush of vomit on Blanche's legs.

Mr. Right: Uhggggggggggg! Sorry, just-so...UGLY! Can't...ca-ca-can't stand it.

Blanche stands there, catatonic, as Mr. Right pukes black into the pool, making all of the people in the pool scream and swim away. Blanche remains there in the pool for several hours, until the pool lifeguard tells her they are closing.

Blanche: (catatonic and reluctant) All right. I'm going...

A glimmer of light flashes instantaneously through Blanche's now sunburnt face, and a faint smile is detected at the corners of her mouth.

**Scene 3: Livin' The Dream**

Blanche return home, stressed and ambivalent. In walks Dorothy with a hot turkey she just pulled out of the oven.

Dorothy: Turkey, turkey, turkey. Some like it hot, some like it cold, some like it in the pot nine days old.

Blanche: Mine surely is over 9 days old.

Dorothy: Honey, honey. It can't be that bad. Tell me what ails you.

Blanche: Well, I went to the pool, and tried to work my magic on Mr. Right, but it was useless. And even worse, he thought I was disgustin'. What am I gonna do, Dorothy?

Dorothy: Ha. That can be easily solved. Let's take a shot at it, and if you don't give me credit, I'll think you're crazy.

Blanche: You are sayin' that we should get embroiled in a lesbian relationship?

Dorothy: What else, Blanche? You know I've wanted you for some time now. We can make things unspeakable weeks ago phase from fantasy into reality.

Blanche: If you put it that way, I guess I have felt some glimmer of...whadayacallit? Attraction for you,

Dorothy. You remind me of a man I used to see in the parking lot of the 7-eleven. He was so aggressive and forward.

Dorothy: Let's do something about it, Blanche. Now!

Dorothy carefully caresses Blanche's shoulders, moving her hands down to Blanche's breasts as Blanche coos and croons to the ecstasy she feels inside. Dorothy reaches around to Blanche's back and unhooks her bra. Blanche tousles Dorothy's hair with her fine, manicured fingernails. Dorothy then sets her lips on Blanche's nipple and starts to suckle, ever so gently. She rubs the other breast in circular motions as Blanche chirps for Dorothy to chug.

Blanche: Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.

Dorothy: Mmmm. What's that wish, Blanche?

Blanche: For you to go down on me, honey. Go down on this magnolia and drink up the dew. Oh!

Dorothy: It's so moist. You know what would make this better?

Blanche: No, what?

Dorothy: Turkey. Yum.

Blanche: As I have heard. Most men say that my liquids are better than the best sauces in all of the world's five star restaurants.

Dorothy: All I know is, it's goooood! (Burp).

Blanche: Oh Dorothy, you're so ravenous.

Dorothy: Yeah, hon. I want more and more. I don't think I can get enough.

Just then, Stanley walks into the living room. The girls are oblivious to him standing there, ogling with interest at their sexcapade.

Stanley: Hum hum.

Blanche: Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Dorothy! Get up!

Dorothy looks up at Stan, her face all sopped with Blanche's juice.

Stanley: I knew it. I knew it. That's why you only had sex with me at Christmas and on my birthday. I knew you were a dike all along.

Dorothy: How the hell did you get in here, Stan?

Stan: You leave a key under the mat, Dorothy. This isn't the first time. Say, you think I could join in?

Dorothy: I think I'd rather eat dog barf then sleep with you, Stanley.

Stanley: I don't know. What do ya think about this?

Stanley strips down to reveal his long, pulsating penis. It is so long, it appears incongruous to his body.

Blanche: Oh my word!

Stanley: That was the only good thing about him. It's just Stan, though.

Blanche: I don't care, Dorothy. I gotta have me some of that.

Dorothy: Well I'm leaving, then. I thought we had something special between us, but I guess you just wanted to satiate one of your urges.

Blanche: Honey, honey. It was special. And now I want it to be extra special...k? Toodles.

Dorothy: Oh, Oh. I don't know what to say. Stan! Get the hell out!

Blanche: Dorothy, this is my house and this is my order. You get the hell out until we've finished. Come on, Stan, let's go to my bedroom.

Stanley: I'm right behind you, kitten.

Scene 4: The Morning After

Blanche strolls into the living room in her housecoat the morning after as Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose are talking.

Dorothy: How was it, Blanche?

Blanche: It was magnificent, Dorothy. You never told me that Stan was so damn good in bed. Geez, I feel like I just rode a jet ski across the pacific, my thighs are throbbing so much.

Dorothy: I didn't think it was all that great.

Blanche: Well maybe what he said was true. Maybe you just didn't like men, honey. I know I love his pole. I can bop on it for hours.

Rose: Really? I would have never suspected that Stan was that great. Lately I haven't been able to sleep. Maybe I can take a crack at him, since Miles is now impotent and all.

Blanche: Like hell you will! He's mine. I've found the right one. Mr. Right indeed, I do declare.

Sophia: So you finally learned a lesson.

Blanche: Yes I most certainly did.

Dorothy: And what was that? Was it me who showed you?

Blanche: Yes. Actually, Dorothy, if it wasn't for your lousy head-giving, I would never see the truth that I am not a lesbian after all, even if I've had my share of rolling around in the hay with a few belles in my day. I love men, and there's no two ways about it. Better yet, Dorothy, if it wasn't for you, I never would have met Stan, and he's oh so good. You should be proud, honey. I feel great!

Sophia: It all works out for Blanche in the relationship department. Hopefully this one will last more than a month.

Blanche: It most certainly has, Sophia. I think the most important lesson I have learned out of all this is that the right one is usually right under your nose.

Rose: That is so beautiful, Blanche.

Dorothy: Yeah. Moving.

Blanche: Well, "Pussy Galore" ought to stop chattin'. I found the love of my life. I'm goin' back to bed if ya know what I mean.

Dorothy: "Pussy Galore?"

Blanche: That's Stan's new nickname for me. Ain't it cute? Ah well, see ya girls tonight at dinner.

Blanche shimmies to her bedroom and slams the door behind her.

Rose: Isn't it romantic?

Sophia: Sure...just melts my heart.

Dorothy: Ya know, maybe I do have something to brag about after all. Even though I'm a pathetic, know-it-all bitch who lives with three other women at age 60, I did have a trophy husband. And I could take it every night.

Rose: Take what, Dorothy?

Dorothy: Some things never change

The End


End file.
